The Chair
by AnUnluckyCharm
Summary: Bella goes to the same cafe every Saturday at exacty 3:30pm with a new book and a cup of coffee. One day however, its taken by a handsome stranger. He stole her chair, her attention, and then her heart. One shot.


I go to the same coffee shop every Saturday afternoon at exactly 3:30 pm, and I have for 4 years.

This is right after I go to the book store to pick up a new book, and an hour and a half before I have to be home.

It's the perfect plan. I have a new book I'm excited to read, a hot cup of coffee, black, and an hour and 30 minutes to myself.

I go so often that the people that work there always have the cup pre-made, on the counter waiting. They know I always pay in exact change, 2.47$, so I just leave it there for them to grab when they can.

Sometimes I manage to read the whole book, others only a few chapters because I'm distracted by the people there, or what's going on outside.

The coffee shop I go to is on a street that's not allowed cars, and there's always people walking about with shopping bags or their kids or their significant other. I always take the same window seat so that I can people watch, in case my book isn't holding my attention.

One Saturday in particular, I ran into the shop, trying to get out of the rain, and I noticed that my seat was taken. I had my new book, The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, my large cup of coffee, and I was walking over to my seat, when I realised that for the first time in 4 years, it was taken.

I didn't really know how to feel about this. I wasn't OCD, but I was a creature of habit. I like what I like and I like it a lot. And there was a reason that was the seat I always sat in.

Looking around, I saw there was an empty seat on the other side of the cafe that was also a window seat. An idea in my mind, I walked over to my seat and said,

"Excuse me?"

The face of the man looked up from his own book to look at me.

"Yes?" He asked.

I was slightly taken aback from his looks. His face was, well, gorgeous. With sparkling green eyes, a bright smile, and copper colored hair framing his face, it took everything I had not to swoon at him.

"Uhm, I know this is slightly unorthodox, but, you see, this is my seat." I explained, smiling, lightly tapping the arm of the beat up, burgundy chair with my pointer finger.

He looked down at the seat, and then back up at me. "Oh, it is?"

"Well, I guess not really, but every Saturday at this time I come to the cafe and sit in the chair you're sitting in right now, and read."

He looked rather amused by me. "I see."

I looked at him for a few moments, wondering what he was going to do next. Realizing that he has nothing more to say, I asked. "So, do you mind moving? There's another window seat over there." I pointed to the seat and then looked back at him.

"But what if I like this seat?" He smiled. I wasn't sure if he was serious, or if he was mocking me.

I frowned slightly. I always sat in that seat. It just wouldn't feel the same if I sat anywhere else.

"Oh." I muttered and sighed. I didn't want to sit in the other chair, so instead I sat down in the old green chair opposite him. I awkwardly squirmed around for a few seconds, trying to get comfortable. This seat was much harder than the one I usually sat in, and I didn't like it. Sighing, I decided it was relatively useless, so I took a sip of my coffee, opened the new book to its first page, and begun reading.

"So, you're from England?" He asked, obviously commenting on my very distinct British accent.

"Yep."

"How did you end up in New York, then?"

"My dad's from here." I flipped a page in my book, rather loudly, to see if he would get the hint that I didn't want to talk with him.

"Okay." He muttered.

I kept reading the book, page after page, and soon enough I was at my favorite state of reading. When you're so engrossed in the book, that you can't even tell you're reading, and it's almost as if a movie is playing out in your head of everything that was happening.

"What's so special about this chair?" He interrupted.

Annoyed and slightly frustrated, I looked up at him. His green eyes were staring deep into mine, looking rather fascinated at my possible answer. I don't know what kind of answer he was expecting though. The whole story involving that chair was too long for me to want to share right here right now, and quite frankly, this book was too good for me to want to stop reading it.

"That's kind of a long story." I explained, not looking up from my book.

"I have time."

"I don't want to tell it."

"Why not?" He asked, using a very bad, fake, British accent.

"Oh, ha ha, you're so funny." I turned another page.

"I do what I can."

I ignored him after that. My book was good and I didn't want t talk to him.

But that didn't stop him from talking to me. Every few minutes he would just make a random comment.

"I've lived here my whole life."

"I come here all the time and I've never seen you before."

"How do you take your coffee?"

"Do you drink coffee, or lattés?"

"I don't get what's so cool about this chair."

"That's a good book, I've read it before."

That was when I got really fed up with him. "Why don't you stop talking and let me read it then?" I glared at him.

He was obviously shocked at my outburst because he just muttered, "Okay, sorry," and looked down at his own book.

About 20 minutes pasted without him saying anything, and I started to feel bad. I wanted to say something, sorry maybe, but I had too much pride. So, instead I just blurted out, "My mom used to sit there all the time."

His head snapped up from his book. "What?"

"My mom used to sit there whenever she came here." I explained.

He nodded his head slowly. "Oh, okay."

"She met my dad sitting there."

He smiled. "That's nice. So, you sit here hoping that your own prince charming comes along?"

I bushed and laughed quietly. "At first, I will admit, but he was taking too long. Also, it seems that most of the people that come here are either middle aged women in yoga pants, or teenagers taking pictures of their drink. So instead I come with a new book and drink my coffee, black, every Saturday."

"Every Saturday?"

I nodded. "Every Saturday for 4 years"

"Wow. That takes commitment."

"It's just habit now. Besides, I work at the little book store down the street every Saturday. I get off at 3, I pick out a book and then I come here."

"What about holidays?" He asked.

"What about them?"

"Well, don't you visit family, or go on vacation every now and then?"

"My family visits me, and I don't vacation. For a few days in the summer I might go back to my home town in England, but I always make sure I'm here on Saturday."

He just stared at me for a little while. Every once in a while someone, a friend or a boyfriend at the time, will ask why I always come here, and I always got one of 3 looks.

One was the "wow, she's crazy." Another one was the "why the hell would she go _there_?"And the last, the least common, was fascination. The "that's so interesting" stare.

That's the one he was he was giving me now.

I ran my hand through my long chocolate brown hair and waited for the next question. At this point I always got the same one. The only thing that differed was the tone, which depended on the look I got.

"Why bother?"

And there it is.

"That's the long story part."

` He nodded in understanding and said, "I still have time."

I smiled at him, "For it to make sense, I have to start at the beginning."

He just smiled in return.

"No interrupting."

"I promise I won't."

I took a deep breath, and began.

"My mom, Renee, was originally from Framlingham, Suffolk, England; a very small town with a very small population. Her whole family is from there too, and they've never been outside of England. Her older sister, Lizzie, was the first one to step foot in another country. She came here, to New York, to attend NYU. My mom's whole family didn't know what to think of her coming here and leaving England. They tried to convince her to stay. They bribed her and they threatened her, but in the end it was her choice. She was 18 and could legally go wherever she pleased.

"My mom's parents were so angry with her that they cut her out of their will, they were very wealthy, and said that she was no longer allowed back at home. My mom was 17 at the tim, in her last year of school before university, and she had also planned to go to a school here in the states. She was appalled at her parents' behavior; that they would so easily disown their own daughter all because she wanted to go to school somewhere else.

"So, she also decided to come here to attend NYU, and was also cut out of the will. She stayed with Lizzie for a bit, and they both worked full time to pay for school, rent and food. They actually both worked here. My mom would work every Saturday and then after her shift she would sit right where you are and read with her black cup of coffee.

"She did this for her whole university experience and then in an October during her last year, my dad walked in. He was a usual here, so she often saw him when she was working, but this time he came over, introduced himself at Charlie, sat where I am right now, and they talked for hours. He often tells me that it was her accent and gorgeous blue eyes that caught his attention. But it was her kind yet fiery personality that kept it.

"They dated all throughout her last year of University. He was a year older and had already graduated the year prior. She moved in with him after she got her undergrad and then 9 months later, I was born. My dad had a good, full time job at a publishing company, so they could take care of me. She kept working here because she was accepted into law school. Her and my dad were still going strong when she got that degree, and when she got a job at a law firm. Everything was finally falling into place for them. They got married and had a little ceremony because none of mom's family came and dad was an only child.

"Then mom's parents heard about it, I still have no idea how, but they did. So, they went back up to Framlingham and met up with my parents and they talked about everything. From how sorry they were that they treated her 10 years prior when she decided to attend NYU, to how excited they were that they had a grandchild."

I stopped talking for a bit to catch my breath, and to see if he was even following.

"And?" He asked.

"And ... everything was fine. They both agreed it would be best if they moved to England so that I had more family around. And then, when I was 14, my mom got cancer. She died."

His mouth fell open slightly. "Oh ... wow. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, it's not your fault. So, after we had the funeral, we both decided that there was nothing for either of us in England. So, we moved back here."

"Wow. That's quite the story."He remarked.

"So, yeah. That's why I like that chair. 'Cause if she never sat there, she would have never have met my dad or had me or mended ends with her family."

He didn't say anything; he just stood up and motioned with his hand for me to sit there.

Smiling, I stood up and took a seat in my chair.

"I'm Edward." He stuck out his hand for me to shake as he sat down in the green chair.

"I'm Bella." I smiled as I shook his surprisingly soft hand.

"Nice to meet you." He pulled his hand up to his mouth to kiss it.

Shocked, I laughed quietly and blushed.

"You have a very beautiful blush, Bella." He winked as he let go of my hand.

Trying not to swoon, I looked down and muttered, "Thanks."

"How old are you?" He asked, leaning back in his seat.

"22. You?"

"24. You single?"

"Very. You?"

He laughed and nodded. "Yeah I am. Do you want to go out to eat with me sometimes?"

Blushing yet again, I smiled. "Yeah, I'd love to."

We traded numbers and addresses and he promised to call me later. We sat there in silence for a bit, when I saw what time it was on my watch.

"Oh, wow. I'm late. Sorry, I have to go." I stood up, grabbing my book, cell phone and my still half filled coffee cup and started my way towards the door.

"Here, let me walk you out. Do you have a car?"

"No, I take a cab."

"Well, why don't I drive you?"

"Oh, you don't have to do that." I argued.

"No, really, I want to." He smiled.

"Okay." I smiled.

I shoved my phone in my pocket, threw my cold coffee out and we made our way down the street, in the rain, to his car. He grabbed my free hand in his and squeezed it gently

We didn't have conversation in the car, but we held hands and sang along to She Will Be Loved on the radio.

When we got to my town house that I shared with my friend Spencer, I noticed that her car wasn't in the driveway. Telling Edward to wait a second, I saw that Spence had texted me 3 times telling me not to rush home, because she was with her boyfriend Josh.

"Dammit." I muttered.

"What?" He asked, sounding concerned.

"My roommate isn't home. We always have movie night when I get back, that's why I thought I was late. But she's with her boyfriend."

"Oh, okay. So you have the place to yourself?" He asked, rubbing his thumb in a circular motion on the back of my hand.

"Yeah, why? Did you want to come in?" I asked turning to face him.

"Yeah sure." He smiled as he got out of the car. I reached down to grab my book and phone. I went to open the door, but Edward was already there, opening it for me.

"M'lady." He said with another bad British accent.

I laughed as I got out of the car. "Why thank you kind sir."

I walked ahead of him to get to the door first, when he grabbed at my waist from behind and whispered in a low, sexy, husky tone in my ear, "Now that's hardly fair."

I got goose bumps all down my spine and on my neck from his voice. "What isn't?" I asked breathless.

"You actually have a hot accent. It's not fair." His lips were now lightly brushing my ear.

Shivering, I opened the front door and whispered back, "I like your accent."

We stepped inside together and then before I could ask him for his jacket, he closed the door and lightly pushed me up against it. He leaned down so that he was level with my 5"6 and whispered, "Oh, do you now?"

His breath smelt of coffee and mint and it was so intoxicating that I couldn't form an audible response. He laughed at my current state quietly and leaned in just a little bit closer, so that our noses were touching and he whispered again to me. "I'm sure you don't as much as I like yours."

He then leaned in the rest of the way and placed his smooth lips against mine. It started out soft and gentle, but then he leaned down t grab my thighs and pulled them up t wrap around his waist and the kiss became rough and needy. I was then able to feel how much he wanted me through his jeans.

"Wait wait wait." I breathed and pulled away.

"What? Is something wrong? Did I do something wrong?" He asked worriedly, letting me down.

"Oh no, you're perfect. It's just that I don't even know you're last name." I explained, looking up at him.

"Don't make this into a country song." He teased.

"Mine's Swan."

"Cullen."

"Edward Cullen," I tried out. "I like it."

"Bella Swan," he repeated. "I like it."

We walked the stair of my spilt entry town house and we sat down on the couch in my living room.

"So," I started. "What were you reading back at the cafe?"

"Alice in Wonderland." He answered, playing with my hand. He make eye contact with me, but I could tell that he was still listening by the way he answered.

"I've read that. What part are you at?"

"I got introduced to the Queen of Hearts."

"Off with your head!" I teased

He laughed and looked into my brown eyes. "It sounds so much better when you say it."

I blushed and moved a bit closer to him, so that our thighs were touching.

He looked at me, his face suddenly quite serious. "I really like you, Bella."

I looked back up at him through my eyelashes. "I really like you too, Edward."

"I don't think you get it." He whispered. He moved us so that I was sitting on his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned into him, as he continued. "I've never felt like this before, and certainly not the first day I met her. I feel so comfortable with you. It's almost strange."

"No, I know what you mean. This right here, what we're doing, how we're sitting? This wouldn't even happen after probably 3 really good dates. But, like you said, I feel so comfortable with you."

I saw him smile. "When do you want to go on a proper first date?"

"Who says this can't be one?" I whispered as a leaned in to kiss him again.

Our kiss progressed quickly like our first one at the door; from gentle and caring to needy and lustful. Soon enough, both of our shirts were on the ground and I was straddling him on the couch, grinding on him.

"The last door on the left." I breathed as he kissed my neck.

"Hmm?" He hummed and looked at me with wanting eyes.

"My bedroom. It's the last door down the hallway to the left."I explained.

He looked at me, his eyes serious again. "You sure?"

"I'm past sure."

He picked me up from the couch and carried me to my bedroom. As he did so, I just stared at his strong build. He had a very impressive 6 pack, and his biceps were large. Not in a showy way, but in a way that showed he worked out often.

Once he reached my bedroom, he placed me on my bed gently and leaned over top of me. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck to bring his lips to mine and try to tell him everything I felt through that kiss.

"Oh, Bella." He breathed

I moaned in response and managed to flip is so that I was now on top, and he was lying beneath me.

I leaned down to his jeans button and ripper to undo them, and I whispered as seductively as possible,

"Off with your clothes."

The next morning we lay there together, tangled up in my sheets. I awoke first, and had time to think over everything that had happened in the last 12 hours before he awoke as well.

Who would have thought that a minor obsession with a chair in an old cafe could get me to where I am right now; feeling happy, free and ever so in love.

Yes,_ love._

All because of a chair and the copper color haired man that decided to sit there.

**Aright guys, that's all. I don't really know why I wrote this but the idea just came to me and it was itching at me to get written down.**

**To everyone that was reading All Alone and Sad, I'm very sorry for taking it down, but it didn't seem fair to leave it up knowing that chances of me updating were very slim. Also, I didn't like the grammar I used towards the beginning. I was much younger than I am right now when I posted it, and it shows through the writing. Maybe someday I'll re upload it, grammatically correct and the way I like it.**

**Also, on my keyboard the "o" key, the "l" key and the "."key weren't working s I had t use the onscreen keyboard which is a huge pain for me. So, if you notice that there are a few words I missed that don't look right, just know that I'm sorry and it was probably just because of that.**

**I'll try to get more stores up if you like them, so please let me know be reviewing it please!**

**I hope you had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. **

** ~Bailey**


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